


Far Gone

by Not_DannyPhantom



Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: But you really only know the character by thoughts and flashbacks so, Character Death, Eventual Relationships, Explicit Language, Gen, Minor Character Death, Not In Chronological Order, Original Fiction, Original Universe, Original work - Freeform, Supernatural Elements, Unrequited Crush, Work In Progress, collection of snippets - Freeform, no beta we die like men, posting here so I have it saved, still working out the concept
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-02-01 22:37:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21372121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not_DannyPhantom/pseuds/Not_DannyPhantom
Summary: He loved him, more than anything, he loved him.Nolan was the sun in his sky, the only person worth dying for; and he would protect his beloved from any demons he could, no matter the cost.
Relationships: Original Character(s)/Original Character(s)





	1. He never got to say goodbye so you could say hello

It was too easy to slip into the familiar room, the other form fast asleep as he entered. Not much had changed since his last visit, only a few trinkets added and- Oh how cute, he had another lava lamp. 

  
Footsteps quiet, he made sure the loudest thing next to his heartbeat would be the grandfather clock on the wall, the tick-tock being something of a security blanket as he advanced. 

  
Nolan always looked so peaceful when he slept… It made him hesitate for a moment, a moment too long; and hesitation meant death. 

  
It was now or never. 

  
Taking out the artifact, he held it over Nolan’s form, the yellow light illuminating in a way that threatened, made the air colder and oh- that grandfather clock suddenly wasn’t so calming. His heart felt ready to break out from his ribcage, a ringing in his ears as he forced himself to chant the code in the ancient language, hands shaking. 

  
He could not afford to back out now, not when he had lost so much. Peter was dead because of this, the memory of him and what he meant to Nolan being the strongest driving force to complete the ritual. 

  
No longer would he lose because of his own weakness, and never again would he allow another soul to be decimated, most of all, he would protect Nolan’s. It was the very least he could do when he wore the face of the boy’s most beloved. 

  
Distinctly he could feel the gusts of wind behind him, hair hitting his face, eyes stinging as they narrowed to slits. His arm was beginning to burn, the sensation almost leading to the artifact slipping, but he remained strong, even as blue eyes, painted green by the light, stared up at him in horror, fear etched across every tell tale hint of expression. Anger buried deep within arose, crawling it’s way out of the void and feeding him strength, taking over the mission as he grabbed Nolan’s chin, jerking his head up without kindness. No. This would be finished quickly, nothing would stop him now. 

  
The artifact made quick work of sucking his power, Nolan’s face losing a few shades of colour as his very strength and will were taken from him. As if the wind were an escort, the very essence of water was carried past him, a body forming as it angrily swirled around the room, an unknown force of power having been set free. 

  
It vaguely resembled a dragon, the mythological ones from Europe they had favoured so strongly in their youth. It shot straight at him, his hold on the artifact and Nolan finally loosening, steps uneasy before his whole form made contact with the floor. 

  
It hurt. More than dying, more than having the very fibre of his being ripped off from his physical body; yet it was almost like being born anew, laughter babbling out past his lips before he could stop it, his body shaking as he pushed himself up, fists clenched. 

  
There were no words to explain the feeling of looking into Nolan’s eyes, the other man pale and sweaty, barely able to keep himself sitting up as tremors ran through his body. Betrayal, loss, anger and pain. He never wanted- _Peter _would have never wanted to see those things on Nolan. But then again, Peter had never been able to do what was necessary, one of the reasons as to why he was dead. 

  
Nolan was trying to speak, bless his gentle soul, probably to ask questions, demand to know why his _beloved_ of all people would do this. Having your powers stripped away well… He would wish that on no one but the darkest and most twisted of souls, creatures that opposed everything the brunet male across from him stood for.

  
His strength renewed, any pain that remained being drowned by his new purpose, he took slow steps forward, sitting down on the edge of the bed as hands came up to cradle the other’s face; a dark feeling inside of him twisting at the flinch he received.

  
“You would never be able to understand why this is happening to you, and despite it all, I am truly sorry. Peter felt so strongly about you, so much in fact well… His last thoughts were filled with regret about not being able to die by your side.”

  
If there was one thing he enjoyed about this form, it would have to be the crisp accent that accompanied his words. A high-pitched whine, or perhaps it was a sob, was his only response; rapid breaths and fat tears: a fallen angel of sorts. The remnants of Peter’s mind always did have a preference for metaphors.   
A part of him wished to stay and… Well he couldn’t exactly offer comfort, and unless he wished to further traumatise the boy before him it was best he left.   
He stood, smoothing down his jacket before brushing the hair out of his eyes, a deep sigh leaving him. “Don’t try anything until you can probably hold a glass straight without shaking. The effects of,” he grabbed the artifact, releasing a small huff as he examined the rusted exterior. Odd. “-Transition are painful, and the symptoms for you may last up to a week. No- Perhaps two when you add it to the mental and emotional stress you’ve just gone under.” 

  
He wouldn’t look back, less he gives a chance for that damn fool to resurface and infect him with memories, a second-hand feeling of love for the man in the bed. 

  
“..who are you.?”

  
It was so quiet, he would have missed it had he been focused entirely on leaving in that moment. Damn Peter and everything he had ever felt. 

  
Who was he? It was a good question. He never had a name, yet he was called by many. His existence had only been kept by jumping from body to body. He had thousands of stolen memories and thousands of stolen thoughts. He had never had his own feelings, only copies of what the true owner of the host body had felt during their time alive. He was a being whose only purpose was to carry out the mission given to him by his Master, no matter the distraction that came from the memories of his host. 

  
It meant that no matter how strongly he felt to grab ahold of Nolan and assure him it’d be all right, he would have to protect him through pain. To keep him safe from the beasts, he himself would play the role of a beast, wearing just one weakness. 

  
He hadn’t realised that Nolan had repeated the question- Several times in fact, really it was fascinating how easy it was to lose one’s self in their thoughts when in human form. The man who previously looked ready to kiss Death was burning brightly, determination shining brightly in those- oh so very blue eyes. He truly was a remarkable individual. Another pang of regret went through him for having had to strip his power away from him; the manipulation of water was an art when in Nolan’s hands. 

  
“You would not recognise me, I have no known name in your language or on your planet, though I have been a faithful servant to your kind for over a millennium. That is all you will ever know.” He couldn’t waste any more time, knowing that only more questions would follow, with less silence than when he entered he fled the room, his retreat hasty. They would meet again, he was positive of that, and there would be a fight, demands to be met and paths to avoid. 


	2. Lie to me with your hands

The entity would come to cross paths with Nolan sooner than he thought, a sense of something tight hardening in his stomach. It was unpleasant enough to meet him for the first time under the pretense of the mission; now to see him again whilst he was carrying out another was simply an insult to his existence, as if the mother were toying with him. How truly annoying. 

He could not just walk away, not with Peter's face, not with his walk or build, especially not when Nolan met his gaze, gifting him the view to a rich fury that shone brighter than any star. It seemed like Nolan was coming his way, and even from here he could see the desire for a fight, the lust for blood. Odd- He hadn't realised how much of an effect he left on the boy; it had been thought that his visit would drift from mind, a deep mourning would have followed and hung over the boy's head but this- The pure rage he saw was entirely unpredicted. 

Flared nostrils, clenched fists, his face was turning red too, pulse fast as he acted as a bulldozer? of sorts, pushing through the crowd with the raw strength that anger provided. 

He turned swiftly, keeping a steady pace as he used the pull of the crowd to disappear. It would provide nothing productive to engage in a fight here, and civilian casualties never shone positively on a résumé. Not to mention he small fact that aside from that first night, he was forbidden to harming Nolan, physically incapable of raising a finger in aggression or any form of wrongdoing. 

Mother fate was surely disappointed in him for something, for his arm was caught by a pale hand, fingers digging into his bicep in a way that would've surely hurt had he been human. Did Nolan ever clip his fingernails? 

The taller man, now at full strength and lacking all emotional control hauled him behind, dragging them both to one of the many tiny, dirty and private spaces behind the vendors' stands, wasting no time to pin him to the wall by a forearm to his neck. How very civilised of him. 

Silence between, the only sounds being that of the world beyond the both of them, slowly drowning out as their little stare contest prolonged. The pressure against his throat increased, and he had half the mind to tell the other that killing this body would not do anything to him, but he found it would be difficult to try any form of communication until Nolan decided to let him speak, he did feel a slight heat building up, eyebrows almost meeting as his attempts to keep consuming oxygen were failing. 

"Why are you here?"

Ah- there is was, the promised question. He felt a temptation to praise Nolan for asking that in such a calm manner, the other man's voice low, dangerous, if he recalled body signs and tones correctly. The brunet practically spoke through clenched teeth, loosening the grip from his neck yet keeping him in place, far too close for any respectable boundary of space. 

"There is always a job to do." His voice came out broken, a cough interrupting the smooth flow he desired, his body taking in deep breaths to restore the necessary circulation. 

Nolan didn't like that at all, and he did not flinch as a fist hit the wall only small spaces from his temple, the brunet leaning in close enough that he could distinctly guess what the other had for lunch. A hand held the collar of his shirt, something he had to fight pushing off as it caused unnecessary stress on the fine fabric. "You know damn well that's not what I asked." 

"That would be true from a certain point of view, but it is one that I do not share. I will inform you that I cannot bring any pain to your person, should you initiate a fight, you will give me no choice but to run less you wish to destroy the body of your beloved." 

Did Nolan truly just growl? Looking into his eyes and studying, he noticed something else along with the rage: pain, so much of it, he understood now that the young man was drowning in it. 

He held up a hand, gently placing the other upon the hand currently clenching his shirt. "Peter wished for me to protect you, there are people in a building two blocks from here that plan to bring you harm in the future, actively planning against you and your cause- Team, whatever you wish to call it. I was on my way to eliminate them." 

His hold loosened, posture softening enough for the ginger to remove Nolan's hand, yet he still seemed to be stuck in place. The hand in the wall fell to his shoulder, a head of dark curls falling to the height of his chin, fingers finding the back of his neck and curling into the hair there. Nolan was shaking, small sounds and a sudden wetness on his collarbone updating him on their current predicament. He said nothing, standing straight and strong, allowing the younger to cry it out. Sobs were truly an ugly thing to hear, as was the uncomfortable feeling of liquid drops falling down his skin, but there was the unspoken contract that hung in the back of his mind, prohibiting him from breaking whatever spell had fallen on top of them. 

He couldn't say it out loud, a heat coming to his head every time he dared speak about it, but there were unknown side missions to the contract between him and Peter. Protect Nolan, that was his job. Yet ever since that first meeting there was an unprecedented desire to care for the young man, to take him into his arms and hold him until the moon had changed for the sun, to make him smile, to be by his side. He wasn't sure why Peter would have wanted a completely different being tend to his would-be husband, but the feeling was there all the same. Now would seem to be the right time to fulfill that wish he thought, as arms came up and circled around the taller man's waist, a hand resting on his upper back. 

Nolan, whether he registered it or opposed it, said nothing, simply tightening his hold on him.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a WIP of a story I'm working on, trying to piece together a bunch of elements and fragments to get the bigger picture. I'm not sure if anyone would read this because honestly I'm not quite sure how the algorithm works for non-fandom fics, but if you did, thank you for checking it out. I would love to hear any opinions or criticism.  
This fic is not beta-ed.


End file.
